


Before there's nothing left but crazy

by prinz_charlie



Category: We Are The Tigers - Allen
Genre: Angst, Gen, One-Shot, Painkillers, Panic Attack, Pre-Canon, breakdown - Freeform, chess really needs a hug, i know this is short but pls read it anyway, projecting.. a Lot of projecting, too much pressure on chess' shoulders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prinz_charlie/pseuds/prinz_charlie
Summary: Chess thinks she's over it; she's over the time where she broke down and cried every night, where she swallowed painkillers to cope. She's over it. But there are only so many days one can conquer before the next downfall.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8





	Before there's nothing left but crazy

Chess buried her hands in the pockets of her jeans and sat down at the dinner table. She didn’t look up when she reached for the glass of water and took a sip. The water tasted weird. But it always did after a bad day. Forcing a smile up to her lips she lifted her head, trying to follow what her dads were talking about after she had left to go to the bathroom. She hadn’t really had to go to the bathroom. But she had needed a place to hide for a few seconds, so she could breathe. Just take a breath and remind herself that the day wouldn’t last forever, and that tomorrow would be a new day and that what she was feeling was ok. But her brain wouldn’t stop shouting at her. Wouldn’t stop going down the spiral of memories and taking her with her.

“In a few weeks you’ll be the best on the team again”, the words of her coach resounded in her brain. “We’ll train every day and you’ll be as good as new.”

She wasn’t a machine!

Chess’ hands started to shake. What if she didn’t want to be the best? What if she was sick of being the best? If being the best made her sick! And what if she couldn’t even be the best if she wanted to? If things would never go back to how they were before her accident! She stared down at the scar on her knee, zoning out of the conversation of her fathers she had just caught up on. She let her fingers run over it. It was yet another proof of how vulnerable she was. Of how she could shatter any second. But no one saw that side of her. Everyone saw the girl who was the school’s best athlete that not even an accident could stop. Everyone was convinced she’d get back on track. Quite literally, back on _track_.

Everyone except Chess.

She was still coping with the pressure to be the best everyone put on her and the high hopes everyone had for her. She had pulled herself out of it, taken the painkillers for her knee and started training again. But she didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations. Suddenly her best time was five seconds longer than before. And everyone smiled a pained smile at her, half-heartedly telling her that she’d “be good at sports again” and that it was “only a matter of time” and that “you are our biggest hope”. And of course, Chess’ brain acted up. Of course, it ate her up and pressed her down and made her break down in the comfort of her room every night for weeks.

But she was over it. She was over it. She kept telling herself that she was over it because if she told it to herself it had to be true, right? She hadn’t swallowed a painkiller in over a week. She hadn’t had a breakdown in over a week, she started having ice cream after school with Kate again, laughing with her and feeling like a person and not a machine everyone wanted to deliver and work perfectly. Around Kate, she felt like she could just be herself.

But Kate wasn’t here. She was alone with her thoughts.

Looking up from the half-empty plate with peas and noodles in front of her, her eyes darted back and forth between the faces of her fathers, who were way too absorbed in a conversation about a new movie that’d be released in a few weeks.

She took a sip of water. Her throat felt constricted, she forced the water down. She felt her hands starting to shake more when her thoughts spun back to the words of her coach. “We’ll train every day and you’ll be as good as new.” She already felt the exhaustion in her bones, when she’d return from practice. Felt the disappointment in her coach’s eyes when they’d look at her and would shake their head. Felt the weight that everyone’s gaze and hope put on her. Her hands started shaking.

“I’m finished, I’m going to my room”, she said, standing up. Her fathers nodded and smiled at her when she took her plate and hurriedly brought it to the kitchen.

She washed her hands, noticing them starting to shake even more and as quickly but unobtrusive as possible ran up to her room. She pulled the door closed behind herself, turned around and started kneading her hands as she spun around, her eyes searching for something they could stare at. For a few seconds, they clung onto her bag that she had carelessly thrown into the corner of her room after coming home. Her mind started going in circles.

Schoolbag. School. People. Sports. Coach. Pressure. Failure.

 _Failure_.

She pressed her eyelids shut, burying her hands in her hair. Something started ringing in her ear, she tugged on her hair, trying to make it stop. She needed to stay sane, she couldn’t slip away again. She was over that! The time where she had barely spoken, and painkillers had been her only hope was over! She was over that!

“What if you aren’t?”, a voice in her head asked mischievously. “What if you only thought it was over when in reality it was a test? And you failed. Yet another thing you failed at. It’s trying to prepare you for your ultimate failure when you’ll have to get more painkillers and tell your coach that you can’t do what they want you to do and disappoint everyone!”

Chess shook her head slightly. “No”, she murmured. “No, no, no, it’s- it’s not, it’s ok, I’m ok. I will be fine. You’re just trying to make me lose it and- and…” Her voice broke. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m fine”, she tried to repeat.

Why had her coach have to tell her that? It had set loose a spiral she couldn’t escape on her own, a spiral that pulled her closer and closer to the abyss. Why couldn’t her mind just leave her alone and forget about what had happened and put it behind herself? Why did the most minuscule words send her into a memory swirl of breaking down every night because of the accident and the surgery and the painkillers she had already been taking for far more than just her knee for a long time?

Painkillers.

“No”, Chess whimpered, when she felt the thoughts swirling and consuming her. “No, please no, I won’t swallow a pill, I don’t need a painkiller to numb myself and clear my brain. I’m fine.”

“You’re not”, the voice said determinedly.

Chess pulled out her phone, trying to distract herself. “No”, she kept whispering to herself. The ringing in her ears got louder. “No, no, no. Not again.”

A message from Kate popped up at the top of the screen, something about trying out for the cheer team. Chess shook her head and swiped it away, her finger shaking. She hadn’t gotten any other message, and the ringing got louder.

“No”, she whispered to herself as her thoughts wandered to the bottle of pills in the top drawer of her nightstand. She shook her head, she buried her hands in her hair again, pulling, trying to stay out of the spiral.

The words of her coach got louder. The memories from weeks ago, breakdowns, barely sleeping, pain killers became clearer.

More tears welled up in her eyes.

Chess stared down at her knee, the scar that would never go away and had turned her into a completely different person practically screaming at her.

The ringing in her ears was just as loud as the voice that screamed unintelligible things at her now. There was only one thing that was clear every time the voice shouted it. “Help. You need help.” She was lost.

Chess needed help.

Her hands shaking, tears taking her sight from her and the ringing making her head that was being flooded with memories feel like it was about to explode she opened the top drawer of her nightstand.

There was only the little orange bottle in it.

Help.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's been a while since I wrote watt fanfic and all I have to say is: Chess,, I'm so, so sorry. But thank you all so much for reading, seriously, it means a lot. I'll read you next time.
> 
> hmu on tumblr (@ haveuseenmylife) if you want to


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